This Life Would Kill Me
by cartersdaughter
Summary: It bothered me that Sam just let it go when Dean said all he did when he thought Sam was dead was think about redecorating. So this is my take on what happens when Sam finds out what Dean actually did. Spoilers for 11x17 "Red Meat"
**This Life Would Kill Me**

 _ **AN: I was listening to the song "If I Didn't Have You" by Thompson Square shortly after the episode "Red Meat" aired. It really bothered me that Sam so easily just dropped the fact that he knew Dean had done something while Sam was supposedly dead. Then I heard this song on the radio, and it totally epitomizes the brother's relationship and what was going through Dean's head when he chose to do what he did.**_

"How is she?" Sam made sure to ask about Michelle, since he had shot her husband and though he felt guilty about that later, at that moment the younger Winchester had been only concerned with the fact a werewolf had been choking his brother. Not the werewolf's brand new wife standing behind him, not his own injuries, nothing would distract him from saving Dean. Now after a few days and a couple quarts of blood the brothers were on their way, not having heard from Michelle since she had been released.

As his brother supported him down the stairs, Sam could feel Dean's arm tremble on his back and heard a slight groan in his brother's voice. That led him to believe there was more to the story than Dean or the doctor had let on. The doctor had told him Dean had taken a bunch of pills and had given Sam a pamphlet of things to be on the lookout for: quickening heart rate, high fever, trouble breathing, dizziness, and a whole list of others. She had said she was wary of allowing Dean to leave the hospital especially the only caregiver he had access to, had suffered an almost fatal gunshot wound.

Sam wondered what that meant, but decided to leave his contemplation for the car and right now concentrate on getting down the stairs. He felt Dean's grip on the back of his jacket tightened as he almost slipped. "Ooh," he said attempting to catch himself before his brother had to support him anymore down the last few steps.

Sam realized Dean waited until they had reached stable ground before continuing the conversation. "She's strong. She'll be all right," he had said removing his hand. The younger Winchester shoved his hand deeper into his pocket as a subtle way to support his wound without Dean seeing. Even though he was making sure to hide the fact that he was hurting Sam was still surprised when his brother pulled away the minute they hit flat ground instead of walking all the way to the passenger side door. Dean had begun walking around to the driver's side without even waiting for him. "Those stitches going to hold?" he asked once again confusing Sam with his odd behavior, pointing at the stitches in Sam's abdomen from the other side of the car rather than coming up next to him and poking at them.

As they got to the car, Sam decided to ask Dean what exactly had happened while Sam had been in that cabin. They had an entire car ride to discuss this incident since the joint hospital stays hadn't led to an explanation or details of what went down. Despite all the emotional poking, Sam still hadn't gotten a straight answer even though it had been days. Though Sam had prodded his brother for more information about the eventful hunt, Dean had remained tight-lipped about his part in the entire scenario except to say he had a concussion, broken ribs and some nice face decoration from the werewolves and the sheriff. Not mention the man had tased him as well. Knowing Dean wasn't going to be forthcoming with any other injuries, Sam tried to figure out how to steer the conversation that way while keeping his brother off guard. "Oh yeah…" Sam tried to keep the conversation light, but stopped a moment to bite back a groan of pain. "Professional grade. Couple days of antibiotics and some bed rest, and I'm..." another stop for pain, damn it would feel good to get these things out "…uh…back to normal."

The younger brother resisted the urge to throw the question back the other direction and instead decides to confront Dean when pain shot through his stomach. The stitches burned. He followed his natural instinct to wrap his arm around his middle hiding his hand behind the car door. Even though he knew a grimace was on his face and a groan was on his lips, evidence of his pain. Watching his brother's facial expression and Dean's raised eyebrows from across the car; Sam tried to figure out what Dean was hiding. The questioning eyebrows had further confirmed Sam's suspicions something more had happened than he was aware of. Something was definitely up with his brother besides just the broken ribs and concussion. Normally, sometimes even at a detriment to his own health Dean would be mother-henning Sam worse than when he was in kindergarten. He would be pawing at Sam like an over-excited puppy asking what was wrong, if he was hurting, and what he could do to fix it.

Dean's silence made Sam's feel something strange was going on. Getting a glimpse of his brother over the top of the car, the older Winchester looked tired and beat up. His face was tight and pinched as though someone had taken the keys to the Impala. His eyes were clouded as if he was hiding dizziness.

Sam entered the car with a hiss of pain and a definitely audible groan. He would have offered to drive; he was having a hard time keeping his own stomach in place. The wheels of his mind turning, he looked to the driver's seat with a sigh. Dean hadn't even glanced his way, eyes staring straight ahead. Sam heard him groan as he's holding back the urge to throw up. And honestly he looked as though he was. Sam's brain was going a hundred miles an hour. Why couldn't he figure this out? Time to get Dean's attention and at least get a little bit more of the story. "Hey! So what did you do?" Dean shook his head, shrugging, eyes clearly questioning Sam.

"When you thought I was dead? What did you do?" Sam watched his brother for any hint of what Dean and the doctor hadn't told him. His eyes scanned every inch of Dean's face, looking for any kind of clue. Finally noticing all the abuse Dean had taken from the various fights. There were two tiny puncture marks on the back of Dean's neck just below where the outline of Corbin's fingers stopped. Bruises, scratches, and abrasions littered his face from the fight with the werewolves. He holds back the anger he's sure is clear on his face at Dean's denial and at whatever stupid thing his brother had done when he thought Sam was dead.

Dean nods. Sam could see him tense up before answering. "Nothing. Thought about redecorating your room, you know…" Sam huffed somewhere between a chuckle at his brother's attempt at a joke and a noise of irritation at Dean's refusal to answer the question, "…putting in a Jacuzzi, a nice disco ball…really class up the joint." Sam's rolled his eyes at his brother's continuation of the charade and at Dean's nod which Sam knew meant he thought he was ending the conversation.

"Right seriously." It was getting extremely hard to keep the boiling anger and aggravation inside but Sam school his features waiting for Dean's response.

"What?" Dean looked offended and caught slightly off guard as though he would never expect Sam to ask such a question. "I…uh..." Sam examined every movement of his brother's face while Dean stuttered through an answer. "I knew you weren't dead." He'd seen that look on Dean's face before. After Cold Oak, after he'd been stabbed, after he had died. When Dean had hugged him so tightly, Sam thought he'd never be able to breathe again. When his brother had said, "You almost died. What would I have done?" It was all the same. The sadness in his eyes that look that said he would never be happy again. The way he refused to look Sam in eyes, staring at a spot on the dashboard instead. The tight, grim set of his mouth as if he would never smile again. The tense lines of pain and grief etched into his forehead and around his mouth and eyes. As if, he was remembering seeing Sam's dead body whether back at the cabin with the werewolves or the cabin in Cold Oak. Sam had vowed after seeing Dean's face after Cold Oak he would never see that look on his brother's face again. Yet here it was, and once again Dean was refusing to talk about or even broach the subject of the events of the previous days. The older Winchester nodded as if confirming his answer to himself.

"Right." Sam accepted the answer with nod, but filed away all of the facial expressions and mannerisms, and tone of this conversation for later. He knew his brother was lying, but decided to drop the subject for now with a smile. The last thing he needed was to push Dean too far and have his brother explode while they were stuck together in a car with nowhere else to go.

"I knew." Dean said with such conviction it scared Sam a little. That hard tone of voice, that growl, only came out when something really bad happened, and Dean was trying to convince him and others he had made the right decision. To make himself believe: whatever lie he was telling.

Again Dean offered a tiny sideways smile as he started the car then the stoic look was back.

Between the look when Dean had said, "I knew you weren't dead," and the fact he felt the need to repeat it, the hair on the back of Sam's neck stood up. Now he absolutely knew something was up, something was wrong, something very wrong had happened. Seeing the tension flowing through his brother's shoulders, the younger Winchester decided to drop the topic for the time being, but he fully intended to confront Dean about the situation. Meanwhile, Sam's mind was running like a hamster on a wheel. What could his brother possibly have done? What kind of deal had he made?

Dean had been known to do some pretty stupid things when he thought his little brother was in danger. The last time he had thought Sam was dead he had made a deal with an angel, and before a demon. Heck he had sold his soul. But the younger Winchester could completely believe his older brother would try something like that again. Whether it was a deal with a demon, a Knight of Hell, the Darkness, or some other evil being. Sam was terrified of all the worse case scenarios running through his head. Dean had to have done something. There was no way Sam could have been that close to death, and Dean thinking he was dead if his brother hadn't done something. And it was up to Sam to figure out just what had been done. But for now it would have to wait.

For now, it was all he could do to keep his eyes open. The blood loss, adrenaline crash, and the events of the day were finally catching up to him. Despite wanting to question his brother, he leaned his head against the window.

"Sammy, you okay?" Dean asked, and Sam was surprised his eyes stayed on the road.

Sam bit back a groan as he shifted positions. "Just a little beat up. Not the worse that has happened to us. Nothing a little sleep won't cure."

Dean held back a chuckle. "Dude, talk about understatement of the century. You have more stitches in you than a Build-A-Bear."

"Nice comparison, Dean. And how do you even know what that is? Anyway, who are you to talk? What about you, man? You okay? Those werewolves beat you up pretty bad. Not to mention the sheriff tasing you…" Dean looked stunned. "I saw the puncture marks on your neck, and the handcuff abrasions on your wrists." Sam continued with his list as if Dean didn't already know all the injuries he had sustained. "And then Corbin strangled you. Not to mention whatever else happened while I was in the woods I don't know about. Which, we are so going to talk about later."

"Sure Frankenstein." Sam flinched slightly at the reference, both at how true it was and because of the psycho family they had had to deal with last year. "After you've had a nap."

"We will talk," Sam insisted. "Especially, after what the doctor told me." Dean froze at that statement. Sam wanted to push but knew now wasn't the moment, but Dean once again confirmed Sam's suspicions of something more. His mind flashed once again to the doctor's warning about keeping an eye on Dean. His brother had a concussion, broken ribs, and he had been tased and strangled. But the doctor had also hinted at something else more serious happening.

It caused Sam's brain into overdrive. So much so he didn't realize they had stopped at a motel until he heard Dean's door opening. "We stopping?" he asked his brain still muddled between pain and worry. "Home?" he asked thinking not enough time had passed for them to be all the way back to Kansas.

"Nah, I'm beat. Plus you need to be in a bed. All this time in the car can't feel good on your stitches."

Sam groaned in response, laying his head against the seatback while Dean went to get them a room. He had just about dozed off his mind roaming to whatever Dean was hiding, when his brother returned.

"See, what did I tell you? Let's get you horizontal, Sasquatch." Sam couldn't agree more. As much as he knew the conversation shouldn't be postponed, it was going to have to be. Both he and his brother were too injured and exhausted to get into a fight now, even a verbal one.

But just because he didn't want to start a fight didn't mean he was giving in. "Not unless you get some sleep too. You're almost as injured as I am." Dean had a tendency to brush over his injuries when he thought Sam was more severely hurt, and the younger Winchester was having none of it.

"I will. Now lay down," Dean said completely ignoring Sam's second comment.

"Gimme my phone first." Sam knew Dean's refusal to acknowledge any form of care had to do with his inherent fear something bad was going to happen if he didn't keep his eyes on little brother 24/7, but he had a right to care for his big brother just the same.

"What do you need your phone for? Who are you going to call at this hour? Cause we are so not explaining this to Jody right now." Dean cringed at the thought.

"No, need to set the alarm." Sam was determined to care for his older brother even if he didn't know the full extent of his injuries.

"Why the heck are you setting an alarm? What do you have to get up for? You need all the rest you can get. Not to be taking care of me." Sam was sure Dean was trying to distract him.

Sam knew his brother wanted nothing more than to shove him into the nearest bed. While he wanted the same, he needed to make sure Dean was also taken care of. "Need it for you."

"For me? What are you thinking? No, you need sleep. What going on in that big brain of yours?"

"Concussion, ribs, pills…need to monitor you. Need to make sure you wake up." Sam grabbed for his phone as Dean held it just out of reach.

"You need sleep to rest and recover. For God's sake Sam, you got shot. Quit worrying about me. What makes you think I could sleep anyway? You almost died. And I left you in the friggin' woods. Alone! And it's eating me up. Don't think I'm going to be getting over that any time soon. Sleep's not coming soon at all." Sam could see a myriad of emotions paint his brother's face.

"I can't begin to understand what you went through Dean. Leaving me there, but you need sleep. We both do which means either both sleep or neither of us does. You were injured too. You've got broken ribs, a concussion and god knows what else you won't tell me about. And don't even try to tell me you got any rest at the hospital 'cause half the time you were nursing your own injuries and the other half of the time you were at my beside."

Dean opened his mouth to protest, but Sam cut him off plowing ahead. "How much sleep have you gotten since the cabin?" Dean raised his hand to stop Sam, "Being knocked out doesn't count."

"What does it matter? Not like we get a ton of sleep normally anyway," Dean said yawning.

"You just proved my point. You need sleep too. I will sleep when you do." Sam gave up on pleading and turned to the whiny little brother act.

"Fine, Sasquatch. Would you just lie down already?" Sam moved to the bed watching Dean's every move.

When the younger brother saw the elder Winchester wasn't moving any closer to the other bed. He sat back up. "I will if you will."

"You are such a baby. I'm fine."

"We both sleep or no one does." Sam sat up and pouted at his brother.

"All right. All right. I'm going, Bitch." Sam watched until Dean lied down on the other bed. Despite the pull of exhaustion, the younger Winchester kept his eyes open and followed his brother's movements. When Dean was finally tucked into bed, Sam still refused to give into the earlier painkillers. He wouldn't sleep until his big brother was completely asleep: eyes closed, even breath, dead to the world asleep.

It had been a trying time for both of them. But Sam had gotten some sleep at the hospital and in the car. But he was absolutely positive his brother hadn't gotten any unless it was forced on him. The elder Winchester's movements were shaky and uncoordinated. From beneath shaded lids, Sam tracked his brother's movements, making sure Dean had no idea he was watching. The elder Winchester tossed and turned getting comfortable while from the other bed, Sam waited patiently for the exhaustion to take its final toll. Dean was stubborn and would do anything to stay awake if he thought Sam still was or if he thought Sam needed him which is why the younger Winchester was currently faking sleep. He had his eyes almost completely closed except for thin slits; his breathing was evened out to the point of putting himself to sleep.

Finally, hearing Dean's breathing even out as well, Sam took a moment to look, really look at his brother. The older Winchester looked terrible. The bags under his eyes were so dark they looked like bruises. Cuts and scrapes littered his skin, covering his face and arms. The two puncture marks on his neck clearly visible standing out like a vampire bite from a movie. When he shifted position again, his shirt rode up, and Sam could plainly see the map of multicolored patterns across his brother's chest. Angry red handprints stood out against the stark paleness of Dean's skin. Skin so pale it looked almost sickly like he had the flu or something. This puzzled Sam as he drifted off. None of the visible injuries would cause this.

But there was time for questions later. Right now Sam had two hours to get some sleep before he needed to check on his brother. He set the alarm on the phone he had managed to smuggle away from this brother for two hours then leaned up against the headboard, put his phone on the adjoining nightstand, and dozed off despite the fact his brain was still going at a mile a minute.

Whirr. Whirr. Whirr.

Sam was awakened by his cell phone alarm. The cell phone he had snuck into his pocket after Dean had tried to take it. He snatched it back quickly before his brother noticed. As he glanced across the room to the other the younger Winchester was surprised the vibrations hadn't woken his brother. Then again the exhaustion had probably beaten him down.

But that wasn't the only thing that had awoken him. Dean was mumbling so quickly whatever words he was saying tumbled over each other in a mess. The closer Sam listened; he began to hear actual words. "No! No! No, come on Sammy. Come on little brother wake up."

Seeing tears run down his brother's cheek, the younger Winchester was desperate to wake him. "Dean wake up. You're having a nightmare." Dean quieted, and Sam thought he was waking up. He was wrong. Dean's ramblings continued, "I'm gonna come back for you, okay? I promise. I will be back for you, little brother. That's a promise."

Sam was wary of touching his brother, despite waiting to pull him out of whatever horrific place he had fallen into, in case of being punched when Dean awoke. But then Dean slipped into another nightmare this one seeming as bad if not worse than the previous one. "No, no you can't take him. I won't let you. You can't take him and throw him into the empty. There must be something I can do. Take me instead."

When another tear traced its way to the pillow, Sam threw caution out the door, dove forward, and shook his brother's shoulder. "Dean! Dean wake up already!" Dean sprang up, and Sam wasn't quite fast enough to dodge the fist flying toward his face. But a gunshot wound to the gut tended to slow a person down. Dean's fist slammed into Sam's eye. And before he could catch the flailing hand, it shot out once more, this time connecting with Sam's already injured gut and newly sewn stitches. He had to make a conscious effort to not scream in pain.

But enough of a grunt escaped that Sam knew Dean's big brother mode would kick in. His guilt reflex would kick in as well. Sure enough, the older Winchester woke with the grunt of his own that morphed into a scream, "SAM!"

"It's okay, Dean. 'M okay," Sam managed to squeeze the words he knew his brother needed to here out from between gasps for air.

It took a few moments for Dean to register Sam's words and shake off the throes of whatever nightmare had taken him over. "Sam, what happened? Are you okay?"

Sam attempted to quell his brother fears, "I'm fine."

But as Sam predicted the guilt reflex was in full swing, the second Dean registered the pain in his hand and the gravity of what he had done. "Sam let me see," he said reaching for his brother's face.

The younger Winchester backed away, "I already told you. I'm fine. What was that all about?"

"You gotta let me at least check your stitches." Sam could tell Dean was deflecting mode. And despite how much his stitches were killing him, he wasn't going to let this conversation passed over. They were going to have it whether Dean wanted to or not.

"What was that? What happened when you thought I was I was dead? I know something happened that you won't tell me. What did you do? You wouldn't be having nightmares if you just spent the day thinking of how to redecorate my room." Sam threw Dean's words from the car earlier back in his face.

"Sam we can talk about this after I check your stitches to make sure I didn't break you?" Dean pleaded.

Sam moved farther away asking his question once he was seated on his own bed. "No, we are discussing this now. I don't care if you don't want to. You are going to tell me what you did. Because neither of us is going to get anymore sleep until you tell me everything."

"Well can I at least…"

"No not until you start to tell me the whole story," Sam said turning his body away from his brother.

"You know what happened. I already told you."

"Not everything." Sam fought the urge to cringe. This sounded too much like the conversation he had had with his brother after Cold Oak, when he had been trying to get Dean to confess to the fact Sam had not just been injured. He had been full on dead.

"Sam…"

Sam was getting pissed now. He just wanted to know what his brother had done and the more Dean avoided the issue the more it confirmed for Sam his brother was hiding something. Something big, like selling your soul big. Holding back his anger, he pushed the words through clenched teeth, "What. Did. You. Do?" Each word was punctuated with a harsh breath.

"Jeez, take it easy before you pop those professional grade stitches. You are still recovering."

"What. Did. You. Do?"

"It's not like I had any other choice. We're running out of options here, Sammy." The younger Winchester could tell his brother was trying to diffuse the situation, but Sam wasn't giving up quite so easily. He was like a dog with a bone, and he was going to get his answers one way or another.

"Please tell me you didn't sell your soul again," Sam asked his mind already conjuring up how he was going to get his big brother out of whatever deal he had made.

"Not really an option, little brother. No one will take a Winchester deal anymore especially not with Lucifer on the loose. So I did the only thing I could think of…" he trailed off.

"Which was?" Sam was even more curious, wanting nothing more than to bridge the gap between the beds and shake the answer out of Dean.

"I talked to Billie."

Dean stopped, and Sam processed. "Billie. The reaper, Billie." Dean's focus on the floor told Sam he was absolutely correct. "But she's a reaper. To talk to her, even if you summoned her, you would have to be dead or at least close to someone who was dying…" Sam paused, his brain putting all the pieces together. "Dean, please tell me you didn't."

"It was the only way." Sam looked up from where he had been studying the floor unable to even look at his brother during the admission. Dean's eyes pleaded with him to understand. "I couldn't do it. I couldn't live with you dead."

"Dean…" Now that his brother had begun to open up, Sam was reluctant to interrupt, but he needed clarification.

"I couldn't do it Sammy. I needed to know, to make sure she hadn't thrown you in the empty. As much as I couldn't live with you dead, I really couldn't live with myself thinking you'd been thrown into the empty. And it was all, my fault because I'd left you there, in the woods."

"There was nothing you could have done."

"I could have been faster, stronger. I could have figured out some way to get you out of that cabin before shock set in. I could have…"

"Coulda, shoulda, woulda Dean. It does no good to dwell on the "What ifs? Stop trying to change the subject. What did you do?" Getting his brother to tell him what had happened was proving to be more difficult than fighting the monster of the week.

"I needed to know. So I did the only thing I could think of."

"You tried to make a deal for me, didn't you?" Sam's tone was accusatory, maybe if he called Dean out he would confess what he had done and this conversation would be over.

"It was the only way. Billie said it herself, no more deals, no more extra lives, no more second chances. I just wanted a simple trade: Me for you." Dean's face was now covered in tears, emotion clogging his voice.

But Sam was persistent. His brother still hadn't told him exactly what he'd done to summon Billie. That was the big secret. "How did you get Billie to talk to you? Reapers only come for the dead or the dying. And if you were able to talk to her that means you could see her. You would have to be close to death. She came to reap you, didn't she?" Sam voice was filling with tears even faster than his brother's, and he still didn't have the answer he wanted. This conversation needed to be over before they both dissolved into sobbing messes.

"Yeah, Sammy she did."

"Why? What did you do to make her come? Did you die?"

"Only for a few minutes," Dean said with a chuckle trying to lighten the mood. "I had it all planned out. I took a bunch of pills with Michelle right there to get the doctor, immediately. I just wanted to talk to Billie. To see what she had done to you. I couldn't stand the thought of you being in some void all alone. If I couldn't make the trade, I thought at least we could be together. Then she told me you weren't dead. And the doc brought me back. That's it Sam that's everything."

"Did you ever stop to think what would have happened if I had made it to the hospital only to find you dead? What that would have done to me?"

"At least you would have been safe."

"Screw safe, Dean. I would have lost my big brother all over again. Haven't we done this enough times? Selling our souls for each other. Messing with the cosmic balance. Cheating Death. It needs to stop. Especially when, one of us ends up on suicide watch. That's why the doctor came and talked to me isn't it? Why she didn't want you to leave. She was scared you'd try again."

"No need. I got my answer," Dean said shrugging off Sam's concern. "And everybody's fine, so what's the big deal? It all worked out in the end." Sam could tell his older brother was once again trying to brush a heavy situation under the rug.

That caused Sam's anger to reassert itself. "Yeah, this time," he said sarcastically, "But what about next time or the time after that. We can't keep doing this, Dean. It's not good for either of us."

"I know. I get it, Sam. I really do. I just…I couldn't do it. I couldn't live in a world without you in it."

"And what makes you think I would be able to?" Sam was amazed at how easy it was for Dean to forget love and sacrifice were a two way street.

"That's the thing. From where I was standing you wouldn't have had to. You were already dead; I was just joining you. If the trade couldn't be made, at least we would have gone together. To the empty or wherever Billie wanted us. Together. 'Cause I can't do this without you Sam. I've tried that, and it just doesn't work. I can't handle a life without you in it, and I wouldn't want to."

"Just remember I can't either Dean. So promise me you won't ever try something like that again. Suicide is never an answer. There's always another way. Promise me, Dean," Sam pleaded pulling out the biggest set of puppy dog eyes he could muster.

"You know I can't do that Sam."

"Fine a compromise then. If you feel the need to do something that stupid again, make sure I am right there next to you when you do it. We go together or not at all."

"Together or not at all. 'Cause I can't do this without you little brother. Now would you let me check you over?"

"You first," Sam bridged the gap between them, pulling his brother into a loose hug, so as not to hurt his ribs running a hand over the back of Dean's head to check for bumps and bandages.


End file.
